I Reborn on the Night I Divorced the Sword Deity, My Childhood Friend - Chapter 26

Another silence fell.

Finally, Wen Su looked up, his expression unreadable and his voice cold. “Correct. I do indeed like men. What of it?”

He chose to admit it candidly, waiting to see how Shen Junyu would react.

Shen Junyu met Wen Su’s sharp yet cool gaze with a hint of surprise. He had initially thought Wen Su would be a conventional, old-fashioned demonic cultivator. He had not expected Wen Su to also like men, let alone admit it so forthrightly.

However, sensing Wen Su’s slightly aggressive stance and recalling his peculiar concern back in the secret realm when he learned of the rift between Shen Junyu and Yuan Muzhou, Shen Junyu’s thoughts drifted elsewhere. He assumed Wen Su had suffered similar emotional scars from a man and was merely empathizing.

Unwilling to poke at old wounds, Shen Junyu pondered for a moment before saying, “It is nothing. I simply think it is very good.”

Wen Su could not help but raise an eyebrow. “Very good? Good how?”

Shen Junyu’s expression remained open and calm. “Now that I know Brother Wen also likes men, there is one more thing we can talk about in the future. Is that not a good thing?”

With that single sentence, the obscure, defensive emotions in Wen Su’s heart completely dissipated. The sharp thorns of his guard were withdrawn, replaced by a faint softness.

After a long pause, he looked away and said tonelessly, “There is not much to talk about regarding such matters.”

He was still being stubborn, but the previous sharpness was gone. Shen Junyu smiled faintly.

As he watched Wen Su’s profile, the man still forcing a posture of indifference, Shen Junyu felt a flicker of curiosity about what kind of man Wen Su might have loved in the past. Just then, Meng Xingyan tapped on the carriage frame from outside.

“Brothers Wen, we are almost there.”

Shen Junyu snapped back to reality, instantly discarding his speculations. “Understood.”

He turned to Wen Su. “Brother Wen, prepare to disembark.” As he spoke, Shen Junyu moved to stand up.

However, the moment he moved, Wen Su reached out and pressed a hand firmly onto his shoulder. Shen Junyu looked at him in surprise.

Wen Su stood up first. “Stay here and rest. I will handle whatever happens outside. Since you have already arrived, the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign will not go back on the bet just because of this.”

Shen Junyu went quiet for a heartbeat. “Then I shall trouble you, Brother.”

Wen Su gave him a look.

Shen Junyu realized his mistake and immediately added, “I spoke incorrectly. I should not draw such lines between us.”

“Yes,” Wen Su grunted. He then retrieved several celestial treasures from his storage ring and handed them to Shen Junyu, reminding him to take them if he felt unwell. He even found a cloak and leaned over to fasten it around Shen Junyu personally.

“The mountain air is cold and the dew is heavy. Look after yourself.”

Shen Junyu lowered his eyes, watching Wen Su’s focused, cool profile as he tied the cloak. His heart softened once more. Even if Wen Su occasionally had a strange temper or spoke with a bit of a sting, he treated Shen Junyu exceptionally well most of the time. In his previous life, he could never have imagined a friend who would treat him with such sincerity. It felt like a dream.

In that case, he thought, I should also treat Wen Su with true sincerity.

As Wen Su finished with the cloak, Shen Junyu recalled Wen Su’s earlier irritation. He stayed silent for a moment, offering no more beautiful words of thanks. Instead, he whispered, “If the Little Marquis wins later, the scene will surely fall into chaos. You must be careful as well, Brother.”

Wen Su raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Their eyes met. Seeing the warmth and genuine concern in Shen Junyu’s gaze, the frost on Wen Su’s face finally melted, and the corners of his lips curved into a slight smile. “I know.”

Shen Junyu smiled back. “Good.”

Wen Su turned and left without looking back.

In Front of the Yunlai Palace

Eight massive white jade pillars rose into the sky in the center of the plaza, supporting a giant lotus-shaped arena. The arena was suspended in mid-air, surrounded by floating thrones adorned with swaying curtains and tinkling ornaments, clearly reserved for Great Masters of the Demon Sovereign level.

The demonic cultivators waiting for the match were gathered around the arena, standing before the carriages or canopied palanquins that had brought them.

When Meng Xingyan’s carriage arrived, the crowd cast their gazes over. Their expressions varied, and whispers broke out immediately.

“I cannot believe he actually dared to show up. Is he not afraid of dying on that stage?”

“Hmph, it is just a case of vanity leading to suffering. If I were him, I would have fled with my tail between my legs long ago. As long as the green hills remain, there is no fear of lacking firewood. To throw away one’s life for a moment of pride, who will remember him then?”

“True. But I heard Meng Xingyan invited the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign. Perhaps he hopes the Sovereign will save him at the critical moment?”

“Even if the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign comes, it is hard to say. He is only at the Spirit Severing stage himself; he might not even be stronger than us.”

“I truly do not understand. Why can their family not just stick to practicing divination? There is no shame in specialization, and people would always seek them out. Why come here to make a fool of himself in an area where he lacks talent?”

“Who knows? Perhaps they have been coddled for so long they have forgotten their own weight.”

These noble demonic cultivators did not bother to lower their voices or use telepathy; they spoke quite openly. Consequently, every mocking word fell clearly into Meng Xingyan’s ears.

Fury flickered in Meng Xingyan’s eyes. He gritted his teeth several times but kept his fists clenched, forcing himself to endure. He knew their mockery held a grain of truth. What they did not understand was that since the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign had twice failed to reach the Void Refinement stage, the Meng family’s influence had been steadily marginalized.

Having always been at the center of power, the Meng family knew exactly how hard the fall would be once they were pushed out. That was why Meng Xingyan had been so arrogant, setting up bets throughout the city to prove to the other Sovereigns and the Demon Venerable that no one could replace the Meng family’s divination skills.

This match was also a gamble. Even if he did not win outright or claim the beauty, he had to show the Demon Venerable their strength so they would not be discarded so quickly.

I must endure, he told himself. I cannot reveal my trump cards. A little impatience ruins great plans.

However, Meng Xingyan’s restraint only led the others to believe he was afraid. The mockery grew louder and more piercing, reaching an almost unbearable level. Not only was Meng Xingyan affected, but even Wen Su, watching from the side, felt his gaze grow dark and icy.

Finally, Meng Xingyan reached his limit. His lips thinned into a line and his fists tightened as he prepared to stand up and denounce these foul-mouthed cultivators.

Suddenly, a slender, fair hand reached out from behind the carriage curtains and pressed lightly onto Meng Xingyan’s shoulder, stopping his explosive impulse. The touch startled him, clearing his mind instantly. He slowly unclenched his fists and sat back down.

Seeing this, another cultivator shouted, “Meng Xingyan, you truly are a shrinking turtle! You can actually endure being insulted like this? Even a thousand-year-old tortoise would not be as patient as you!”

But Meng Xingyan remained deaf to the clamor. He tilted his head slightly, listening intently to the instructions of the person behind the curtain. After listening, a subtle, knowing smile spread across his lips.

He flicked his sleeve and looked toward the crowd of young noble demons with an air of grandiosity. “Since you all claim not to be shrinking turtles, do you dare to make a bet with me?”

The crowd was surprised. After a moment of whispering, someone stepped forward. “What is the bet?”

Meng Xingyan replied calmly, “The outcome of my duel with Qin Huaique.”

The crowd erupted in an uproar. Someone asked, “How would we bet on that? Surely you are not betting on how many moves you can survive?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the plaza was filled with loud, mocking laughter. Surrounded by the ridicule, a flash of murderous intent flickered in Meng Xingyan’s eyes, but he quickly replaced it with a calm smile. “We bet on the winner.”

The crowd was stunned again. Having said those words, Meng Xingyan became peaceful. Ignoring the strange and mocking looks, he said steadily, “If I defeat Qin Huaique, everyone who bets against me must give me one Heaven-tier Demonic Soul Weapon. If you do not have one, celestial treasures of equal value will suffice. If I lose, the stakes are the same for me.”

The young demons were shocked. Their first reaction was disbelief, followed quickly by more laughter. “Meng Xingyan, how much have you had to drink today? Betting like this, are you not afraid of losing your father’s entire legacy?”

“Exactly! Have you truly left your brain back home?”

Facing the ridicule, Meng Xingyan acted as if he heard nothing. He stood up, walked into the center of the plaza, and looked at them with disdain. “Less talk. If you dare to bet, come forward and sign a Heavenly Demon Blood Oath with me. If you lack the courage, then crawl back and continue being your shrinking turtles!”

This provocation worked instantly. With the Heavenly Demon Blood Oath as a guarantee, the cultivators did not fear that Meng Xingyan would default on the debt; in fact, they were afraid he would suddenly sober up and change his mind.

Without further hesitation, they swarmed forward, fighting to sign the blood oath with him. Meng Xingyan remained calm, accepting all challengers. Internally, he was overjoyed. As expected of Wenyu, this move is brilliant! I am going to make a fortune!

As he was signing the oaths with the group, a cold wind began to blow. The crowd froze and turned to look.

Amidst the falling red maple leaves, a figure in white stepped down from a four-man palanquin and walked toward them. It was Qin Huaique. Today, he was not wearing his usual silver armor; instead, he wore a snow-white robe with dark cloud patterns, giving him the air of a scholar.

It was unclear if he had simply forgotten his armor or if he was intentionally showing contempt for Meng Xingyan as an opponent. Regardless, to the onlookers, it was a silent insult.

Meng Xingyan looked at him, expressionless. Qin Huaique approached, his gaze passing coldly over Meng Xingyan’s murderous eyes as if he saw nothing at all. He looked at the others. “I heard you are betting. What are the stakes?”

Meng Xingyan said nothing, but the surrounding cultivators crowded around Qin Huaique obsequiously, explaining the details of the bet with mocking undertones.

After considering their words, Qin Huaique turned to Meng Xingyan. “In that case, Brother Meng, would you also care to make a bet with me?”

Meng Xingyan was quiet for a heartbeat, his lips slowly curving up. “Very well.”

“However,” Qin Huaique added, “I would like to adjust the stakes slightly.”

Meng Xingyan raised an eyebrow. “Adjust them how?”

“If I win,” Qin Huaique said, “could I ask Brother Meng to have your father activate his Spiritual Eye to look into a certain matter for me?”

Meng Xingyan’s expression changed instantly. The crowd gasped, immediately admiring Qin Huaique’s cleverness. If he were to kill Meng Xingyan in the arena, the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign would never fulfill the promise, even with a won bet. Thus, the subtext of Qin Huaique’s stake was clear: he would spare Meng Xingyan’s life in exchange for a single use of the Spiritual Eye.

It was common knowledge that activating the Spiritual Eye would cost the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign at least twenty years of his cultivation base, and it could not be used again for at least five years.

Regardless of Qin Huaique’s true intent, this wager was a direct attempt to force the Tian-tong clan into an increasingly desperate situation. It was a classic “killing two birds with one stone” maneuver.

Meng Xingyan clearly understood the implications. Inside his sleeve, his palm clenched into a fist once more, and his expression toward Qin Huaique grew increasingly murderous. However, he did not immediately agree. It was one thing to be confident in his own victory, but it was quite another to gamble with his father’s life, cultivation, and future.

Because he had previously underestimated Shen Junyu, he had already caused the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign to suffer an injury. This time, he would not allow even a fraction of a percent of risk to exist.

Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, the crowd assumed he was afraid. Their interest piqued, and they began to jeer and hoot. Qin Huaique did not press him, simply standing there in silence.

Just as the atmosphere reached a complete deadlock, a voice rang out.

“Yan-er, take the bet.”

The voice was elegant yet saturated with authority. It echoed from the highest point of the sky, carrying a hidden pressure that felt like Mount Tai descending. In an instant, the souls of the demonic cultivators in the plaza trembled, leaving many dazed and unsettled.

Hearing this voice, Meng Xingyan snapped out of his trance. Overjoyed and surprised, he instinctively looked up toward the source. “Father! You came.”

The Tian-tong Demon Sovereign had already seated himself on one of the floating thrones surrounding the arena. As the curtains fell around him, his voice drifted down. “We of the Meng family do not fear trouble. Since you want to gamble, gamble to the end, lest you be mocked for nothing.”

Hearing this, the cultivators below laughed inwardly, thinking the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign had gone senile. Why let Meng Xingyan take a bet on a match he was destined to lose? Truly, stupidity ran in the family.

Only Meng Xingyan understood the deeper meaning. His father might not be certain of his victory, but he would never stand by and watch his only son be beaten to death on the stage. Therefore, win or lose, the bet had to be made to secure his safety.

A surge of intense emotion and fighting spirit welled up in Meng Xingyan’s chest. He turned back, his gaze sharp as he stared directly at Qin Huaique. “Fine, I will bet with you! But I am changing my stakes as well.”

Qin Huaique remained composed. “No matter. How does Brother Meng wish to change them?”

Meng Xingyan’s eyes burned. “If I win, I want your Black Dragon Overlord Spear.”

The plaza erupted in shock. The Black Dragon Overlord Spear was a semi-spiritual, Houtian treasure bestowed upon the Tian-huang Demon Sovereign by the previous Demon Venerable. The dragon soul within the spear had already gained sentience. Meng Xingyan truly had some nerve!

Qin Huaique, however, was unfazed. He gave a slight sneer. “Very well.”

Clearly, he did not believe Meng Xingyan could actually win; he assumed the man was just indulging in a moment of bravado.

The two then signed the Heavenly Demon Blood Oath. Meng Xingyan’s hand was trembling slightly as he signed, which the onlookers mistook for fear. In reality, he was shaking with excitement.

As soon as the oath was finalized, announcements began to boom across the plaza.

“The Nine Nether Demon Sovereign has arrived!” “The Tian-huang Demon Sovereign has arrived!” “The Yunmeng Demon Sovereign has arrived!”

Three brilliant streaks of demonic light descended like rainbows, landing one by one on the floating thrones. The crowd immediately knelt in salute.

Once the formalities were over, the crowd rose. Lin Yuzhi, the strategist under the Yunmeng Demon Sovereign, stepped forward to announce the rules for this martial competition for marriage.

At that moment, the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign spoke from behind his curtain. “Yan-er, come up.”

Meng Xingyan was pleased and prepared to go up, but then he remembered Shen Junyu. The arena was too high; unless one was standing on the ground or seated on a high throne, it was difficult to see the whole picture. This was why Shen Junyu had asked for a seat near the stage.

Since his father was here, Meng Xingyan decided he would simply bring Shen Junyu up with him and introduce him to the Tian-tong Demon Sovereign. With this plan in mind, he called out a response to his father and turned back toward the carriage.

What he saw, however, made his heart skip a beat.

A magnificent bridge of cyan-gold demonic energy flew out from above the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign’s throne. It shot directly toward the carriage where Shen Junyu was staying, circled it once, and lifted the entire carriage into the air!

The carriage was carried until it reached a spot right next to the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign’s throne. The demonic energy did not dissipate but transformed into a glowing cyan-gold lotus beneath the carriage, rotating slowly to keep it suspended.

Not just Meng Xingyan, but every demonic cultivator present was stunned. Speculation ran wild. Meng Xingyan was filled with alarm, fearing the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign was making a move against Shen Junyu. Others thought the Sovereign was publicly siding with the Tian-tong faction, promising a chaotic show ahead.

While Meng Xingyan was spiraling in doubt, Shen Junyu’s voice transmission fell softly into his ear.

“Little Marquis, do not panic. I am fine. The Demon Sovereign simply does not want you to be distracted during your match.”

Meng Xingyan’s heart stirred, and he immediately tried to transmit a reply. This time, however, Shen Junyu did not respond. With his father urging him again, Meng Xingyan hesitated but eventually transformed into a streak of white light, flying up to his father’s throne and stepping behind the curtains.

Inside the Carriage

After the carriage settled, Shen Junyu waited a moment before transmitting a message to the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign’s side.

“Thank you, Demon Sovereign.”

A moment later, a reply came. “This Sovereign is merely reclaiming what belongs to this Sovereign.”

Shen Junyu was surprised for an instant, then replied, “Regardless, I have received the Sovereign’s favor and should offer my thanks.”

There was no further response. Shen Junyu paused, not taking offense at the silence.

He turned his attention back to the interior of the carriage, making no mention of the transmission. He naturally took some spiritual fruits and pastries from his storage ring, placing them on the table for Wen Su. “It will be a while before the Little Marquis takes the stage. If you are bored, Brother Wen, please have something to eat.”

Wen Su reached out and picked up a fruit. He did not eat it but rolled it between his fingers for a moment. He lowered his eyes and said casually, “The Nine Nether Demon Sovereign seems to care quite a bit about you.”

Shen Junyu’s heart jumped. For a second, he thought Wen Su had overheard the transmissions. But then he realized that the Demon Sovereign’s actions were so grand that it was impossible not to notice.

He gave a faint smile. “I suppose no one else has ever spoken to him so boldly. It is only natural he is interested; he is probably thinking about how best to kill me later.”

Wen Su’s brow twitched. After a pause, he asked, “Why do you think he wants to kill you?”

“Just a guess,” Shen Junyu replied.

Wen Su was speechless.

In truth, Shen Junyu’s guess was perfectly logical. He had provoked the Sovereign so brazenly, and although the Sovereign had agreed to the bet, he had already issued a warning. Now, the Sovereign was keeping such a close eye on him. It seemed the Nine Nether Demon Sovereign was a typical demonic cultivator—extremely vengeful. He couldn’t think of any other reason for such focused attention.

However, not wanting Wen Su to worry, he did not voice these thoughts. He failed to notice that Wen Su’s expression became increasingly subtle after hearing the “guess.”

Just then, a loud commotion broke out outside. The two listened and realized it was time for the duel between Qin Huaique and Meng Xingyan. They stopped talking about the Demon Sovereign.

Wen Su stood up first, walked to the front, and pulled back the carriage curtains. Bright sunlight flooded in, and the arena was laid bare before them.

Both Qin Huaique and Meng Xingyan were dressed in white today. However, Qin Huaique’s robe was plain and unadorned, giving him a simple and dashing look. Meng Xingyan’s robe was embroidered with gold thread, shimmering in the sun—the very image of an elegant, wealthy young master.

Below the arena, the crowd was chanting Qin Huaique’s name, almost certain that Meng Xingyan would lose.

Hearing the jeers, Meng Xingyan’s gaze darkened. He wasted no more time. With a flick of his wrist, demonic energy gathered in his palm. The next second, he lunged forward, his palm striking directly toward Qin Huaique’s face!

The opening move was seemingly ordinary, but as soon as he moved, the crowd realized something was wrong. How was Meng Xingyan moving so fast?

Within a few breaths, the two had already exchanged over a dozen moves. Demonic energy surged across the stage, causing continuous tremors. The crowd grew more shocked. Why hadn’t the match ended yet? Was Qin Huaique holding back, or had Meng Xingyan been hiding his true strength?

Qin Huaique was also internally surprised. Unlike the cultivators below, he sensed something odd about Meng Xingyan after just those few moves. He assumed the man was wearing some kind of defensive artifact.

He transformed into a streak of light, soaring upward before descending with incredible speed. As he closed in on Meng Xingyan, he materialized and threw a flying kick aimed straight at the man’s temple!

Meng Xingyan “fell for it,” spinning and ducking to avoid the kick. Seizing the opportunity, Qin Huaique gathered demonic energy in his hand and grabbed the shoulder of Meng Xingyan’s outer robe, ripping it outward with force.

With a sharp rrip, Meng Xingyan’s ornate outer robe was shredded and shattered by the demonic energy!

Qin Huaique believed he had destroyed a defensive artifact. To his shock, three blinding flashes of spiritual light erupted from Meng Xingyan’s bare skin, sending Qin Huaique flying backward!

The entire audience gasped in shock.

Qin Huaique crashed near the edge of the arena, dust billowing around him. A moment later, a bare-chested Meng Xingyan stepped slowly out of the haze, standing before a staggering Qin Huaique.

In the sunlight, Meng Xingyan’s lean, tanned muscles glowed. Most striking, however, were the three sets of spiritual arrays covering his body. Intricate gold patterns shimmered as the phantom images of the Azure Dragon and White Tiger surged within them. The spiritual light wrapping around him gave the once-playful young master a sense of unsearchable, majestic divinity.

The crowd was stunned and confused. What were these things? They had never seen or heard of anything like this.

Qin Huaique shared the same thought. Seeing the shock and doubt in his opponent’s eyes, Meng Xingyan smiled faintly.

The next second, murderous intent exploded in his eyes. He threw a heavy punch straight toward Qin Huaique’s face!